


The Lost Son

by KlaraMonroe



Category: Peaky Blinders (TV)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-01
Updated: 2017-12-01
Packaged: 2019-02-09 05:39:54
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,511
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12881325
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/KlaraMonroe/pseuds/KlaraMonroe
Summary: The reader accompanies Tommy to his first meeting with Michael when he's still known as Henry Johnson.Tommy thinks the reader could be useful in sweet-talking his adoptive mother to let Michael finally meet his real family, but things turn out to be different than expected and Michael falls for the unexpected visitor in no time.





	The Lost Son

Hey there! :) This is my second Michael GrayXReader One Shot and the first one to ever enter AO3. I really hope you enjoy reading if you should stumble across my work for some reason. :D I actually don't know if this work should stay a One Shot or if I maybe should start working this out as a whole fanfiction, maybe you could let me know in the comments what you would think about a continuation of this work.  
Now have fun, whilst reading, wish you a wonderful day! :)

 

*~~*

 

“(Y/N) you’re coming with me today,” Tommy said as he had set the family’s business plans for today.  
Raising an eyebrow you stared at him.  
He hadn’t taken you to any big deals since a month and that he suddenly came out of nowhere with this information made you curious.  
“What do you need me for?,” you immediately asked.

  
Locking eyes with you, Tommy waited until Aunt Polly was out of sight, then he closed the door to his office and threw a file on the table.  
“I found Polly’s son,” he then announced, making your jaw drop.  
He had told you about Polly trying to find her children and that Tommy wanted to help her but you didn’t imagine that there would be news about their whereabouts that soon.

Opening the file you studied the report about her son, there were no photos only short notes about what happened to him after they took him away from Polly.  
“His adoptive mother calls him Henry Johnson but his real name is Michael Gray. I’m going to meet the woman who adopted him today and I need you to convince her that it’s the best for him to at least get to know where he’s actually from.”

  
“So I’m playing the facilitator?,” you asked looking away from the date of Michael’s birth.  
You were only one year older than him.  
“Yes. And I guess it makes me more trustworthy if I show up with a nice young girl close to Michael’s age,” Tommy said lighting himself a cigarette.

You slowly nodded your head in agreement.  
“Yeah probably. So we’re going for a little journey today, hm?,” you grinned at him.  
“Yes, but please (Y/N). Behave appropriate. Where we will go today is not Small Heath or London, these people live a quaint life in a very wealthy household,” Thomas warned you what made you frown at him.

“You’re acting as if I don’t know how to mind my language. I know when to talk appropriate and when to better curse,” you huffed.  
“I know, I was just trying to point out the situation for you,” he said.  
You sighed.  
“Alright, when are we driving?”  
“Put your best dress on and we will drive now,” he responded.

Two hours later Tommy had parked the car in front of a very big redbrick house with a huge garden and a wide field around it.  
“Wow, that boy sure did live well I suppose for the last twelve years,” you mumbled when Tommy opened the car door for you.  
“And remember let me talk first, as soon as she gets hysterical, you’ll break in, alright?”

You nodded your head more focusing on holding your dress in place after a huge wind gust came and nearly revealed some very intimate parts of your body.  
The white and fawn fabric of the dress was just right for the summer air but you had the feeling that it would’ve been more appropriate to let it at least cover a bit more than just your upper thighs as soon as you saw a round woman with a blue jacket staring at you as if she was about to say: “Whore.”

“Is the dress too short?,” you asked slightly feeling uncomfortable.  
In Small Heath or in London (at least in the parts you had been with the Shelby boys) nobody cared for how short your dress was as long as it looked expensive and didn’t reveal your bare ass.

“Probably, but now it’s too late anyways,” Tommy said with a slight smile.  
“Oh great, thanks for telling me now,” you hissed.  
“It’s not like you have dresses that are longer,” he grinned.

“I could’ve bought one for today!”  
“Hush now, that’s his mother, let me talk,” Tommy suddenly interrupted your argument as the woman from the garden told her boys to go into the house.  
“Mrs Johnson!,” he said.

“Yes? Who are you?,” the woman answered looking you and Tommy up and down, especially you what made you feel even more comfortable about your presence right now so you quickly looked away to the house behind her.  
The two boys that had come from the field across the small path were still standing in the doorway, the younger one who was about six or seven years old got inside after the older boy had told him to.

You supposed if there weren’t more children, the older boy must be Michael, Polly’s son.  
“I’m from Birmingham council,” you heard Tommy saying right next to you, but you were more curious about Polly’s son who was coming outside the house now after he seemed to have sensed that something wasn’t right.

He actually was about to question his mother about what Tommy and you wanted but then he saw you standing a bit away from Tommy at the garden fence in your sleeveless, short white summer dress with the fawn ornaments and came directly towards you.  
A light smile spread across his face as he stood right in front of you, while his mother was starting to argue with Tommy.

You had to admit that he looked quite adorable.  
He was a pretty boy with dark blonde nearly brown hair and blue eyes, he was taller than you and his features were something quite unique between boyish and a bit rough but also something in the way he looked reminded you a little bit of Tommy.

“Hello,” he said obviously interested in getting to know your name.  
“Hi,” you responded with a coquettish smile.  
“What’s your name?,” he asked, his voice sounding much deeper than you would’ve expected.

“(Y/N).”  
“(Y/N) … so what are you doing in front of my house, (Y/N)?,” he asked grinning at you.  
“Waiting for pretty boys to ask me what I’m doing right in front of their houses,” you responded enjoying far too much where this was going.

“Really, is that so?,” Michael asked grinning even wider.  
“Mhmm. And I’m here to tell you that the name Michael suits you better than Henry.”  
Michael’s grin faded a little when you mentioned his real name but he still couldn’t stop smiling about your unusual behavior.

It was obvious that you weren’t from here, the girls from the village wouldn’t act like you did, wearing short dresses, giving coquettish answers and smile, so seducing at a boy.  
“Where do you know my real name from?,” he asked.  
“We’re from Birmingham,” you pointed at Tommy who meanwhile had lost the argument against Mrs Johnson who was looking sharply at you now.

“Your real mum wants to see you. Here, that’s the address,” you gave him a small paper with the house number of the Watery Lane on it.  
“Don’t worry she just wants to talk. And besides the things you got told about her aren’t true. She never hit you, or drank, or used opium.”  
“Where do you know that from?,” Michael asked taking the small paper from you.

“We know her. She’s a good person, trust me,” you smiled.  
“You don’t have to do it if you don’t want to. But think about it, she really misses you.”  
Michael nodded slowly.

“Yes I will. Thank you,” he said and by the look he gave you, you really could tell he would maybe even come over to Small Heath.  
“Alright that’s enough now! Keep your dirty hands away from my son, you little whore!,” Mrs Johnson suddenly shouted and you jumped away from the fence.  
“Jeez! No need to get personal!,” you shouted holding your hands up in the air as if you wanted to capitulate, what made Michael chuckle a bit.

“Come on let’s leave,” Tommy said guiding you away from the furious Mrs Johnson.  
Following Tommy back to the car you waved back at Michael.  
“Bye farm kid, maybe see you soon back where you belong!”

“Let’s go inside, don’t look her way, that girl only means trouble,” Mrs Johnson said as soon as you and Tommy weren’t to be seen anymore, but Michael still couldn’t stop smiling.  
“Don’t know what you’re talking about. I found her nice,” he said leaving Mrs Johnson at the garden fence simply speechless because of her son’s answer.

Michael meanwhile took a look at the small piece of paper you had given to him.

_Small Heath, Birmingham, Watery Lane no. 17_

Maybe it was worth a shot, not only because he would finally be able to talk to his real mother, but also because you could probably be there.


End file.
